Okay; I got Silly, now that the Summer is drawing to a close and it'll soon be time for a new round-robin cycle here on adwc. I hereby present a glimpse *behind* the scenes of the Internet Adventures: Scenes from the Summer Internet Adventure 'Wrap' Beach Party/Clambake... The Moderator is chatting with Wil Young. "So, chapter titles on 'Tangent'... Did you notice how it started out short, then just got longer and longer?" "Funny, that's what *she* said-- *What*?! Geeze, some people around here got no sense of humor..." "Wessel, you got a *lot* to answer for!!" She marches off. "Wil, what're you--? Gee, the Moderator looks peeved..." "Hey, don't look at me -- you're the one who started writing me this way." "Yeah, I did, didn't I?" They snicker together. Nearby is the steam-pit heaped with seaweed and plastic wrap. Hungry carniverous writers are gathered around, waiting for the clams and lobsters to finish cooking. Nearby, a grill is starting to serve up barbecue items, as well as roasted veggies (corn on the cob, potatoes, regular and sweet, onions, peppers, etc.) for the herbavorous set. The day is gorgeous. The beach sand is pristine (pay no attention to that pulsing tangle of seaweed heaving its way over on the far right!) the sea is turquoise, the breeze soft... The Sea Devils weren't invited, but they aren't really bothering anybody. They've joined in on the lively volleyball game that just started, with the 7th Doctor and Ace on opposite teams, and are doing quite well at it, too. They certainly aren't bothering the 8th Doctor. He's enjoying a well-deserved spell of relaxation. He has, for the occasion, donned Lennon-style sunglases, and doffed coat, waistcoat, cravat and shoes, rolling up the cuffs of his shirt to the elbows and his trousers to mid-calf (but removed no more clothing, much to some attendees' disappointment... ;-)) Come to think of it, he lost both his coat and vest during 'Tangent', didn't he--? DOCTOR: No, it's all right; I've got them back now... MODERATOR: Oh. Oh, I see -- Cyberman Richard must have given you the jacket back. But that brown silk waistcoat, or vest, or whatever you call it...? DOCTOR: Beyond repair. Plenty of those back in the TARDIS, though. Perhaps the multi-colored striped sateen... Suggestions come flying from the party-goers... "Plaid! A Highland tartan!" "Someting just like what you had before!" "No, someting crazy, like purple paisley!" "Lose the damned hat!" The Doctor freezes and does a double-take, looking indignantly for the maker of the last comment. A sea of innocent faces looks back at him. "Hmm..." he mutters, giving his battered blue fedora (TARDIS substitute?) a protective pat, before smiling absently and going on with his jelly-baby noshing. "So, like, when we started out doing this, we always had happy endings, but like now, the endings are kind of bittersweet?" "Everything was 'fixed' at the end of 'The Horror of Angels'. And 'Time's Children' had a happy ending." "Well...Yeah... But wasn't Ian Chesterson dying in that one?" "Oh, yeah... So did he die or what?" "I don't think anyone said. I thought it was, like, just understood, but maybe when Cameron had John turn back into Johhny Chess, that all changed...?" "Whoa... Heavy, dude..." A thin, barefoot, crop-haired blonde in a sleevless white tee-shirt and faded denim cut-offs, dark sunglasses wrapped around her head, is strolling across the sand towards the gathering. She looks kind of like that Gap model in the magazine ads, and is spinning a strangely-shaped pendant on a chain. It is, of course, a TARDIS key. An interested murmur goes up as people begin to notice her. "What's *she* doing here?" "I didn't think the two Continuities could mix like this..." "Well, look, it *is* The Land of Fiction. Anything can happen here; you know that." "Yeah, but I just didn't expect..." Someone starts to whistle the *Twilight Zone* theme. Walking over to where the 8th Doctor is happily sprawled on a deck chair under an umbrella, she stops for a brief chat, the key swinging around on chain all the while. A couple of minutes later, she walks away again, and heads directly towards the barbecue pit. Heads turn to watch as the young woman makes her way over. "Oh, man... She's going to make a big stink over it, I just *know* it! The Mod's going to be *sooo* embarressed!" Evil anticipatory glee and suspense combine as speculation swirls. The barbecue staff look up somewhat defensively, as the newcomer strides up to the grill, and brace themselves for they know-not-what-- "One cheese-burger, please, " says Samantha Jones. Relish enters her voice. "*Rare*!" Eyes bug, jaws drop. Someone recovers and holds out a burger. "But--but you--" "Yesss...?" she prompts, her intonation rising along with her eyebrows as she grasps the edge of the plate. "I-I thought you were a vegetarian or something..." She smiles and rolls her eyes a little. "In the books, yeah, but now I'm on my *own* time. Erm, you can let go now, thanks. Now, where's the--" She catches sight of somebody approaching and smiles widely. "Hey, Wil!" He grins and hoists the two Sam Adams ales he's carrying. "Should've known you'd find 'em. Let's eat; I'm famished!" They go off together, leaving shaking heads in their wake. "Well, I never..." "What?" "She was just so good at being anti-meat and so on in the books, I just assumed..." "Ah, but it's all fiction, ennit? In the end, that's all we are -- just a bunch of facades we present to the world... Does anyone ever really see the 'real' us? A pause. *What*?" "This is a party -- stop thinking so much! In a few days, it'll be back to the same old grind. Have fun. *Now*. That's an *order*!" "Yes, *ma'am*...!" And see the rest of you back here on adwc for the Fall round-robins! ;-) --The Round-robin Moderator